


That's Just How It's Gotta Be

by Duck_Life



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brothers, Demonic Possession, Gen, Possessed Dean, Possessed Sam, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-29 23:20:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end, we will always end up here. Set somewhere during season 9. Please R&R!</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's Just How It's Gotta Be

Water skitters out of the faucet, frisks over Dean’s hands without getting them any cleaner, and the sound of it splashing into the basin beats like a drum line, like some distant command to keep moving, keep marching. He dries his hands, and he sets the towel back down behind the taps, and he looks in the mirror and sees the corner of his mouth trembling.

His eyes are black.

It’s later, in the car, driving down the road with Sam, that Dean can hear her laughing in his head, can practically smell her lipstick. _I think we’ll do it tonight_ , Abaddon says, her lilting voice reverberating through his mind like a song on surround sound. _I think we’ll kill him tonight, babe. Won’t that be fun?_

Dean’s hands shake around the steering wheel but they aren’t his hands, and they tick with anticipation rather than fear. “Sam,” he croaks out, and Sam glances over as if he’s been consumed in his own thoughts. “Sam, I have to tell you something.”

She tracked him down two days ago, because he was stupid and needy and drove out to the damn train station because he thought Cas might be there.

He wasn’t. She was.

Abaddon did everything she said she would, because Abaddon is not his father, and Abaddon is not an angel, and Abaddon is not a tired man with blue eyes who never comes home when he should. Abaddon keeps her promises, and she kept this one, scraping off the anti-possession tattoo and swarming inside him like she was drinking him up.

“I’m not driving right now,” Dean tells Sam, eyes forward. “She is.”

“Abaddon?” Sam looks scared, and so young, and Dean hates himself for knitting the knight of hell back together again, and Dean hates himself for not killing her in Oregon, and Dean hates himself.

He nods. “She… she has everything but my head,” says Dean. “It’s like some sick friggin’ joke, you know? For cutting hers off? Like I can say whatever, I can look wherever, but at the end of the day she’s pullin’ the strings. Last night,” he says with an empty barking laugh, “I tried to put my mouth around the barrel of a gun, but she wouldn’t pull the trigger. Just kept laughing…”

“Dean,” Sam interrupts, worried but strong, _Sam_. “It’s gonna be okay. We can… I can…” He starts reciting an exorcism, but Dean stops him.

“Sammy, you think I haven’t tried that?” The hoarseness in his voice scrapes in the quiet car, because for once the radio’s not on. “She’s too strong. And… and I wanted to tell you, warn you, but she kept saying she’d kill you right there, right then, and I had to- had to wait it out, buy you time, Sammy-”

“Dean-”

“But she’s gonna do it tonight,” Dean rushes out, and one tear inches out of the corner of his eye. “She’s gonna- and you- Sammy, you gotta get away. Okay?”

“Dean,” Sam says again, “I’m not leaving.”

“Like hell you aren’t.” Abaddon pulls the car over, thrumming in Dean’s long muscles. She is rearing, she is roaring, she is ready for the kill, the inevitable torture ahead of it. “You get back to the bunker. You find Cas, tell him-” For one wild moment, he thinks that in some crazy world he could have it all. Cas, and Sam, and a home, and food and family and no black smoke, but the moment passes and Abaddon grins within him. “Nothing. Don’t tell him anything. Just take care of him. And take care of each other, and Kevin.”

His knuckles crack; Abaddon cracks them. It makes him want to vomit. “Sammy. I’m so sorry.” Another tear. “I love you.” And there it is. “I love you, Sammy.” It won’t save them, or change anything at all, but there it is, and Sam nods and affirms that so does he, he loves his brother, and still nothing changes.

“I won’t,” Sam points out, crying now, “get out of here, Dean. She won’t let me go.”

“She thinks she won’t,” Dean says, “but there’s somethin’ she doesn’t know.” A stab of delight goes through him when he feels the demon’s confusion. “Somethin’ you don’t know either. I kept it from her, and from you.” For an instant, he feels pride, rich and sweet.

“Dean-”

“Ezekiel,” says Dean, speaking forcefully and turning his whole head. “You save him. You save him and you kill me. You understand?”

“ _What_?” Sam is saying, but his eyes glow and his hands quake and Ezekiel takes control, unfurling in the passenger’s seat. At the same time, Dean’s eyes turn black. In fury and surprise, Abaddon floods his whole self.

They get out of the car, she with a wrathful mission and he with grim determination. They are a fallen angel and a demon out of time, Ezekiel and Abaddon, soldier and knight, but they are more.

They are two brothers on the side of the road, who loved each other, and betrayed each other, and one of them is going to kill the other, in the end. 


End file.
